Fighter and Survivor
by Sparkleward
Summary: Cato is a fighter, a machine – he kills and he wins. Peeta is the contrary – he just tries his best to survive, like he always did. When these two opposites meet, can they complement each other? PeetaxCato SLASH
1. Prologue

Fighting. That's the only thing I know.

Fighting for acknowledgment, for respect, for attention and the most important thing–fighting for a reason.

My reason was given to me the day I was born, exactly eighteen years ago today. I hadn't had the power to decide over my own fate back then, of course, so there was no way my future would've turned out differently. My parents have chosen my fate for me instead. I don't know it any other way, so it's normal to me. I have never complained about anything, because I didn't even know I had the_ chance_ to complain. I've never given anything in my life a second thought – I just did whatever was asked of me.

Like I said, it was natural to me.

So natural, that today – the day of the reaping – I shout the two words everyone expects of me.

"I volunteer!"

There is no hint of fear or other shit like that in my voice.

The lady from the capitol on the stage manages a cold smile and waves for me to come to her. I make my way through the cheering crowd and up the stairs. My steps are firm, my hands balled into fists beside my body. I come to a stop next to the green-haired woman and ignore the rest of her speech. My stare goes straight ahead, fixated on nothing in particular but I'm still aware of all my surroundings. That's the number one rule when you're a career.

I react again when I hear my name and shake hands with the female tribute of our District. Apparently her name is Clove. Her grip is strong even though she looks kinda innocent with her tiny frame and the dark hair. We both nod once in acknowledgement and then the Peacekeepers bring us into the town hall behind us.

From now on my real fight starts. Years and years of training lie behind me only for this, right now, to happen. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I need to focus on one thing, my reason – win the Hunger Games, come home as a victor. No matter what it takes, no matter how many tributes I need to kill.

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**A/N: Hey people! This is my first Hunger Games/Peeto fanfiction. I hope you like it. Let me know via reviews what you think, please! :)**


	2. Grey Meets Black

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my imagination.**

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews so far, I'm flattered! Oh, and I'll answer them shortly! :)**

**Peeta pov**

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I always thought I'd die in my sleep, not quite peaceful but at least I wouldn't notice anything, and then it'd be over. Just like that. And believe me, that thought isn't groundless where I come from.

My family owns a bakery in District 12, the last part of Panem. And the most inhumane, for that matter. Just one look around tells you that there is not one thing that would make life enjoyable, let alone livable. Poeple here live poor, hungry and dirty. The whole area looks like it's under a dark spell, everything looks colorless and empty, even the people. There is no spark in their eyes, no fire in their soul anymore – no strength to fight for something that's never gonna happen anyway.

Because of our bakery, my family is at least free from working in the mines like all the other men here, but that's about it. You'd think that, since we're baking all day, there'd be enough food to eat. That we're not as poor as the others, but that's wrong. We wouldn't dare eat something that's for the bakery – my mother would kill us.

My father, as well as my brothers and I are working the whole day while my mother is doing whatever she's doing upstairs, where we live. She's probably musing over how to torture us best, since she never does anything else.

Whatever, I don't care anymore, because...

Because today I was reaped for the Hunger Games. And that means I'm gonna die, and it won't be as merciful as dying in my sleep. I'm gonna get murdered or if I get lucky I'll starve or something like that. I don't wanna die through torture. That's my biggest fear. As for anything else...well, I can't exactly say I'm a fighter, more like a survivor, so I can just do my best in that and see how far I get.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to die. I just don't have anything worth living for.


End file.
